


Closet

by quinngrey



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Anal Sex, Closet Sex, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, bottom!annatar, by popular request
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-10
Updated: 2018-03-10
Packaged: 2019-03-29 03:13:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13918185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quinngrey/pseuds/quinngrey
Summary: In which Tyelpë and Annatar fight and then fuck in a closet. That's all folks.





	Closet

**Author's Note:**

> I'm shit at plot, y'all. But a lot of people like when Annatar is the bottom, and that is something I can write. So I tried my best!

Tyelpë’s voice had raised durning the argument, a thing Annatar had considered him incapable of. Weak, timid, kind Tyelpë didn’t often shout, after all. Yet here in the middle of the corridor, still far from either of their chambers, he did. Anyone might hear them here, and despite this Annatar let him rant and rave at him for far longer than he expected he would. Something about the elf in a state left him feeling nostalgic for the loud chastising of a lover long ago. 

The Maia would be lying if he denied finding the entire encounter arousing, though his demeanor hid it well, and the thrill of knowing this was just a hint of what his dear Tyelpë was capable of was entrancing. Annatar could hardly wait to share his grand scheme, though it was still not time. Although it had never been his intention, it appeared he had ended up liking the elf far more than expected.

Realizing that the golden Maia in front of him didn’t seem to be listening, Tyelpë threw his hands into the air. “You’re not even listening! Stars above, you’re not even listening, Annatar,” he sighed heavily, running his hands through his loose dark hair, feeling anxious and agitated. 

“I am technically listening, Tyelpë, I simply do not care,” Annatar offered, tone even. “I apologize, but I’ve stopped caring fairly early on. I thought it important for you to vent your frustrations, howe-”

His words were cut off as the other shoved him firmly against the wall, back of his head hitting the stone. Annatar’s eyes went wide in surprise, and though he was taller than Tyelpë, a familiar curl in his stomach from feeling intimidated unfurled mixed with the arousal that subconsciously followed. 

Strong hands, smith hands, held his shoulders so that he couldn’t move. For a long moment those deep blue eyes bore into his own, challenging his tongue to lash coldly once more. Instead Annatar opted for silence, lifting his chin proudly despite the situation. He would not apologize now, not like this. It had been too many years since he allowed another to put him in his place, and by the Void, he wasn’t going to let an elf do it. 

Tyelpë’s gaze darted briefly, spotting a door not far from them that he knew to be a closet space. His hands gripped the light coloured chiffon of Annatar’s robes and he dragged the other stumbling along to it. With a rough shove, he pushed the Maia into the closet and shut the door behind them. Moving without thinking, Tyelpë crowded Annatar back against the nearly bare wall, his fingers pulling at the decorative robes to expose milky white skin. His mouth went to the other’s throat, frustration and anger getting the better of him as his teeth sunk into the tender flesh there. 

The moan above was a hint surprising, though he didn’t care to pull back, his usually fumbling fingers sure as they undressed the Maia before him. He sucked at the skin, leaving a possessive mark to blossom before moving from throat to clavicle to chest, leaving bites and kisses along the way. Unlacing the other’s leggings he pulled back to yank Annatar’s arm, turning him around so his bare chest pressed into the wall. 

It had been ages since he had been treated like this, with such blatant disregard and aggression, and Annatar did not fight it. At least not much. He moved just enough for his sweet Tyelpë to react, his strong forearm holding him still as he leaned against the Maia’s back. The sound of laces being undone and slickness of a cock being stroked perked up his ears. Head turning slightly, Annatar tried to see what Tyelpë was doing, but the angle didn’t serve him well enough. It was not long before he heard the pop of a vial being uncorked behind him.

Soon a knee was nudging his own legs apart, his leggings having slid down to his ankles, and an oil coated finger was sliding down the cleft of his arse. Gasping softly, his eyes closed as Tyelpë forced a finger inside him. It was not gentle, it was not kind, but it was everything that Annatar could have wanted. For all his provoking, he had started to believe that the elf would never be lead to this. A second finger breached the tight ring of muscle, the two scissoring in a way that made him shiver and moan in the dark and claustrophobic space. 

“Ty-ah- Tyelpë,” he uttered, pushing back his hips on the intrusion below. A third finger left him keening as it stretched him, his hands grasping helplessly at the bare wall. All too quickly he was left empty, and by the Void he couldn’t suppress the whine in his throat. A dark hand wrenched his head back by the hair, those lips once more at his neck, and all he could hear was the soft growl of the docile elf he had finally managed to push so far. 

Teeth pulled at the lobe of his ear now, making Annatar cry out. The missing fingers were replaced a short moment later by Tyelpë’s rigid cock, though the length sunk into him slower than he would have expected. Valar, the burn of the stretch was enough for his breath to halt completely, eyes rolling back. 

No sooner had the thought of slowness crossed his mind did Tyelpë pull back briefly to slam back into him harder and faster than before. It took Annatar’s composure from him completely, encouraging the elf on with a moan so lewd and genuinely wanton that Tyelpë couldn’t help but wonder if all the times before had been put on to some extent. He took that thought to heart with the intention of showing the Maia that he could do better, that he was not the incapable elfling that Annatar took him for. Tugging those golden locks harder, he thrust into the pliant body without holding back, seeking his own pleasure more so than he had ever thought to do before. 

Annatar was already beginning to come undone, flickers of his former Master that were often there when he coupled with Tyelpë fading as he gave himself to the sensations. A shift of angle had him seeing stars, the ever delightful coursing of nerves shooting through him as the other hit just right in him. Had he made a sound, he wasn’t aware, but surely he did because Tyelpë’s over hand came to cover his mouth, forcing him quiet. Right. Closet. Middle of the corridor. Anyone could hear. 

Before he knew it the Maia was at his end, his chest scratching against the stone wall as he came untouched, tightening around Tyelpë’s hard cock within him as all of Arda seemed to disappear. A few shallow thrusts later and it felt as though the elf followed behind him, filling him with hot seed as he leaned his head into the crook of Annatar’s shoulder. 

For a while they stayed as they were, both panting for breath loudly in the small closet. Fingers disengaged from the Maia’s hair, followed by the length that had filled him so perfectly, and even still he couldn’t help how he slumped against the wall for support, knees weak. Strong arms pulled him up, turning him so they were face to face once more. Tyelpë pressed their brows together, meeting the other’s eyes at last. 

“I am sorry… I don’t know what came over me,” he tried, but Annatar silenced him with a kiss. 

“Damn, you are strong for a little thing,” the Maia teased, smiling against Tyelpë’s lips. “Perhaps I shall seek your anger more often.”

**Author's Note:**

> As always, requests welcome!


End file.
